Lovefool
by MoriSenpai
Summary: Duo and Heero break up, and Duo's not happy about it. Will his attempts to get Heero back succeed, or will he end up on his ass in the cold? WARNING: This story contains malemale relationships. If you are offended by this, please do not read.


_Dear, I fear we're facing a problem_

"Duo."

The braided wonder, Duo Maxwell, looked up from his magazine and at his gorgeous Japanese lover, Heero Yuy. The former Wing pilot stood in the doorway of the bedroom of their small, shared apartment. At the sight of his lover wearing his favorite blue jeans (that accented Heero's butt so nicely) and a black tank top (that flaunted the boy's perfectly sculpted arms), Duo's normally over-sized violet eyes widened with delight.

"Heero!" he cried cheerfully, zooming into the stoic boy's arms.

Heero did not appear to be in a cheerful mood. "Duo, we need to talk," he said in a stern, deep baritone of a voice.

Duo tilted his chestnut colored head to the side, causing his braided hair to flop to the side of his body. "What's wrong, Hee-kun?" he asked sympathetically. He still encircled the boy in his arms, but stood a short distance away from him.

"I. . ." Heero began, then shutting his mouth. He averted his thin, cobalt blue eyes to the ground, biting his lip. Duo knew that Heero did not bite his lip unless something was very wrong.

"Heero, what's the matter? You can tell me." Duo smiled at him, that perfect, melt-in-your-mouth Maxwell smile Heero had come to adore for the past six years. That beautiful smile that made even the toughest of battles worth fighting, if only to defend that one little twitch of the lips. The smile that had warmed the coldest of winter nights for five years, even in their dank little apartment. Now, the smile was only heartbreaking, its happy demeanor too much to bear.

"I. . ." The Japanese boy took a deep breath, released it, and said, "I think we should spend some time apart."

Duo felt his heart crack in the middle, threatening to break off into large, hard chunks that would thrum against his rib cage and force their way up into his throat, choking him.

"Oh?" Duo replied, too shocked to think up a better response.

"It's just not fun anymore, Duo," Heero continued, filling the silence anxiously. "We used to have such wonderful times together. But now. . ." he sighed, "we just kind of survive. We sit around and stare at each other. We're not as close as we used to be, and maybe some time apart would help us out a little."

_You love me no longer, I know_

Yep, there it went. The former Deathscythe pilot's little American heart broke off into five large chunks, which shattered into millions of tiny shards that ripped through his entire body. Duo stared at his lover in utter shock. As the small shards tore their way into the various ends of his body, he could only resist the urge to whimper.

After staring for what seemed like an infinity, Duo finally managed, "No. . ."

"I'm sorry, Duo," Heero said, breaking his way out of the circle of Duo's arms.

'Five years,' the violet-eyed boy thought somberly. 'We've been together for five fucking years, and he just wants to end it!'

"Please say something, Duo," he heard Heero say, placing a hand on his shoulder, but still avoiding meeting his purple eyes.

Duo shook his head. "What do you expect me to say?" he replied, his voice repressing most of the pain and emptiness he was feeling. "'All right, Heero, that's fine.' Or maybe, 'Yeah, I agree with you Heero.' What do you expect me to fucking say!"

A few tiny tear drops slid from the corners of his wide eyes. "You throw this huge bombshell on me, and you expect me to okay with it! I gave you five of the best years of my life, and suddenly you just want to end it!"

"Duo, I'm sorry—"

"Saying 'I'm sorry' isn't going to glue the pieces of my heart back together, is it!" Duo paused for a moment. More tears slid down his rosy cheeks, his violet eyes becoming more and more bloodshot from the salty drops.

"It's Relena, isn't it?" he finally spoke, peering hard into Heero's eyes.

Something about the severity of Duo's gaze could not allow Heero to look away. That sort of pain, that level of emotional suffering, was just too much, even for the most highly trained soldiers. "Relena has nothing to do with this," he replied softly, almost afraid of the American boy now. "I just think we need to take a break from each other."

Duo, surprising himself, was able to hold his composure, still standing on his own two feet and not crumbling on the ground like a paralyzed child without a cane. "Well, then," Duo shrugged, turning away from Heero. He had seen enough of his tears for one day. "I guess you've made your decision."

"Quatre and Trowa said they'd let me stay with them for a while, so you can still have the apartment."

Duo shook his head. "I can stay with Hilde. Besides, I wouldn't want you to feel sorry for breaking up with me, what with the Happiest Couple on Earth constantly around you." Heero shivered at the bitterness in the chestnut-haired boy's tone. Such a sweet person, with the body and face of an angel, using such harsh tones seemed too sacrilegious.

Before Heero could argue over the matter, Duo had already begun packing his clothing and various other items into a travel bag he kept under the bed, with some items already in it. His job with the Preventors required him to travel quite a lot, so having a pre-prepared suitcase helped out when called off on a case.

The former Wing pilot was soon left all alone in the livingroom of his and Duo's apartment. The braided boy had slammed the door on his way out, saving his tears until he reached Hilde's apartment. Heero, however, had waited until the door shut before letting his tears flow freely.

_And maybe there is nothing that I could do_

_To make you do_

Duo did not have any need to call Hilde ahead of time. The girl, who acted as a surrogate sister to the boy, had heard from Quatre that Heero was planning on breaking up with him, and had expected him to come right after the deed had been done. Of course, she did not tell Duo of this; she accounted her readiness for a guest as "sisterly intuition."

For two hours, the violet-eyed boy spilled his guts to the German girl, sobbing as he spoke of the many wonderful days they had spent together, the awesome trips they had taken, and how he would never get any of it back.

"It's not so bad," said Hilde, after Duo had finally calmed himself down and was now hiccuping from too much crying. "I mean, he did say that you two should take a break from each other, not entirely break up."

"Doesn't it mean the same thing?" Duo whimpered. He had drawn his knees up to his chin, hugging the limbs tightly, and rocking back and forth on the couch upon which he and Hilde sat.

Hilde shook her head, her short, purple hair bouncing against the sides of her face gently. "Did you learn nothing from that _FRIENDS_ episode? You know, the one where Rachael tells Ross she and him should have a break?" Duo nodded. "See, she didn't mean a complete break up, and neither does Heero."

Duo sniffled. "Maybe you're right. I just have to keep up my hopes."

Two weeks later, Heero stopped by to speak with Duo. However, instead of asking Duo to come back with him, he told Duo that if he still wanted to live in the apartment, he could have it. The former Wing pilot had decided to move out. It became perfectly clear to everyone that Heero had no intentions of getting back together with Duo.

_Mama tells me I shouldn't bother_

Duo declined the offer to move back into their old apartment. There were too many memories stored within the whitewashed walls, the nondescript white carpet. Not to mention how difficult it would be to live alone in a place that had seen so much love and shared tenderness. The thought made Duo wonder just how much of those years of affection had been artificial, how much of it Heero had been faking all those years.

He told Heero to keep any of the furniture he liked, and sell off the rest. If the American was going to cut his former lover out of his life, he was going to do it properly. He was going to forget everything they had kept together. Since the couple had started together right after the end of the war, practically everything in the apartment was mutually theirs. Everything else had been bought as gifts for the other.

Every piece of Duo's property reminded him in some way of the Japanese boy. Everything he owned also belonged to Heero, that was the agreement in romantic relationships. And now it was all gone.

"Dammit," Duo cursed, kicking the cement wall housing the old apartment building as he left the place for good. "How can this be happening? We were so happy! How could he end it so easily!"

After the breakup, Hilde had advised Duo to try and move on. "Your wounds will only heal if you give them time," she had said. "Don't mourn Heero as if he were dead, just try and get along with your life. Find someone new, someone who will appreciate the wonderful man you are."

Maybe it would have been better if Heero had died. Maybe then there would not be a great possibility of running into his ex-lover on the street or someplace public.

_That I aught to stick to another man_

_A man that surely deserves me_

_But I think you do_

Everyone else Duo held dear had tried to fill the gap by setting the handsome American up on blind dates. Trowa and Quatre had tried their friend Bill, an up-and-coming accountant with dashing good looks and a wardrobe that practically screamed "GQ." However, despite the fine looks and the high class job, the man was as dull as beige carpet. Unless, of course, one were interested in the fascinating world of IRAs and tax rates.

Hilde had tried her friend Harris, who was a medical student that worked part-time as a waiter. He was witty, charming, and did not integrate his social life into his working life (no talk of abdominal hemorrhaging here). But there was one major flaw that even Duo could not look past; the man talked constantly of himself. About his part-time job, about his medical training. . . Hilde later admitted that she knew of this flaw, but assumed they would get along because both boys were so loquacious in nature.

Wufei's try was probably the best out of the three. He introduced Duo to Andrew, a smart, somewhat handsome young man of just about their age. He worked as a secretary for the Preventors, and was a wonderful listener. The two shared many interests in music, in sports, and in humor. However, what kept Duo from falling into deeper feeling with this stunning young man was the fact that he bore a striking resemblance Heero. Despite Duo's still fervent feelings for the Japanese boy, a replacement such as this was unacceptable. Duo loved Heero for his personality and his kindness, not for his drooling good looks.

It was at this point that the braided boy decided that he had had enough of trying to fill the void with random setups. The only thing that would complete him by this point was Heero Yuy himself. Duo found himself constantly thinking about his former lover; at night, before bed, when out with friends, even when on dates with pinch-boyfriends. Yes, it was perfectly clear that he had to have Heero back in his life.

_So I cry, and I pray, and I beg_

It had been a month since the breakup. Duo had gotten word from Wufei that Heero was still renting out their old apartment. The braided American would confront his old lover in their old love nest.

Duo knocked tentatively on the solid white door that lead into the apartment. Already he had retrieved his belongings from the place, turning down the offer of taking the furniture. There were too many swollen memories that lay on each piece. The white cloth sofa, where they celebrated their first year anniversary. The tanned, solid oak table, where they gave each other matching housewarming presents; the oak had certainly lived up to its sturdy reputation. And the white chair, that had come with the sofa, where Heero sat Duo down in his lap and whispered "I love you, Duo Maxwell" for the very first time.

The American quickly shut his eyes. He could feel the sting of salty tears trying to push themselves free. Duo shook his head, mentally berating himself. 'Don't cry! If you cry, you show weakness! You can't be weak for this!'

Heero opened the door, slowly, and greeted Duo with wide, surprised eyes. Well, as wide as his almond-shaped eyes could open, anyway. He only wore a pair of fading black jeans, no socks or shoes, no shirt or tank top. His normally fussy dark brown hair was mussed severely, as if he had just woken up. From years of experience, Duo could tell Heero was not wearing underwear either, though he would say nothing of this secret talent. Either the boy had company over, or he had been sleeping naked. The previous thought hurt Duo, but he would not show it.

"Duo," the Japanese boy said, his voice raspy.

"Hey, Heero," Duo grinned, his trademark Duo Maxwell grin. It was not the sweet and loveable Duo Maxwell smile, the one that melted Heero's innards. No, this was the infamous grin, that told its viewers that the chestnut-haired boy had something planned.

"What are you doing here?"

"I decided to pay a little visit to the ol' apartment. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Duo lifted his eyebrow, a spark of something wicked flashing within his violet eyes.

Heero shook his head, his dark hair dancing against forehead. "No, I just fell asleep on the couch." He paused, staring at the American boy with mournful cobalt eyes. Since Duo was slightly shorter than him, he had to look down to look directly into his eyes. "You want to come in?" he asked, stepping out from the doorway to give Duo room to enter.

Duo smiled, nodded, "Sure."

Stepping into the place, Duo noticed Heero had redecorated. Well, if you could call it that. Duo had been the artistically visioned one, and had made sure that everything matched, that everything was perfectly accented. It took him a year of sifting through garage sales and thrift stores (being the frugal person that he was) to find just the right items to make the apartment perfect. Now, all that was left of his hard work was a barren waste of a home. In the living room, where once stood the white couches and chair with semi-matching coffee table and knickknacks, now lay a plain, black leather couch; Heero had left the black 12" television set in its place, removed from the hand-built housing Duo had made for it when the two boys first moved in together. Glancing into the kitchen, Duo could only see the white refrigerator, stripped of all its colorful magnets and pictures. The American boy had also been the chef-inclined of the pair, and so any and all cooking utensils had been removed from the kitchen.

In the small nook the boys referred to as the "dining room," the beautiful oak dining table had been replaced by a grey card table, with four chairs made of the same dull metal and vinyl covering as the table. No longer were there any pictures or decorations, anything that gave the small nook emotion. Duo did not even want to think about the bedroom; too many memories still lurked there, still whispered to the violet-eyed boy. Obviously, the Japanese boy had found an easy way to remove most of Duo's presence.

Duo whistled, low and surprised. "Man, how'd you sell everything so quick? This place is so empty!"

"I stuck all the large furniture in the storage grate in the garage, along with some of the decorations," replied Heero, following Duo into the livingroom. "We had the damn thing for five years and never used it, I thought I might as well use it now."

Duo nodded, saying nothing. He continued to look around, still getting over the shock of seeing such a happy place so. . . dead.

"Is there something you wanted?" Heero asked, falling down onto the new black couch.

'I want you,' Duo answered internally. He shut his eyes, trying to block his thoughts for a moment, trying to figure out his words properly.

"I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing," he said, only half-lying.

Heero lifted his eyebrow. "Why?"

"Hey, just because you don't give a damn about whether or not I'm alive doesn't mean I don't give a damn about you!" Duo shut himself up quickly. It was hard, after being so outspoken all his life. He was not used to rationing his words.

"I give a damn about you, Duo," Heero said, "I'm just wondering why you've come here after so long."

"It's only been a month."

"That's a long time for some people."

Duo kept glancing around the livingroom. He noticed the CD player was missing, probably down with the rest of the furniture in the storage grate. At least the tall reading lamp was still sitting in the corner of the room.

"People like you?" Duo smirked, though his face was hidden from Heero's eyes.

Heero shook his head, then shrugged. "I don't know."

Duo swallowed the lump in his throat. The tears in his eyes still burned, still threatened to fall and reveal him. He decided he should get to the point.

Duo turned to face Heero, his violet eyes smiling at the boy. "Heero, I know you said we should take a break. . ." He took a deep breath, walking closer to where the Japanese boy sat. He kneeled down before the boy, laying his braided head upon the other's firm thigh, peering up at him through a shade of chestnut bangs. "But I think we can come to a different kind of agreement, don't you?"

_Love me, Love me_

_Say that you love me_

_Fool me, fool me_

_Go on and fool me_

_Love me, love me_

_Pretend that you love me_

Heero's eyes widened for the second time that day. He rose from his seat on the couch, moving Duo's head in the process. "Duo, I don't know what's up with you, but—"

Duo had risen to his feet. He placed the middle and index fingers of right hand over Heero's thin lips, silencing him. "Just hear me out," he whispered, bringing his face closer to the face of his ex-lover. "You and I can both win. I'm miserable without you, and I know you're miserable without me. So why don't we end our misery? We can go back to the way it used to be."

"I don't love you Duo," Heero said behind the American's fingers. "We can't go back to the way it used to be."

Duo shook his head. "Who needs love? Why can't you just pretend to love me?"

"Because that would be using you, and I respect you more than that."

The braided American laughed softly, "But you'd do it, wouldn't you?"

"I. . ." Heero shook his head, stepping away from the American. "I don't know! I think you should go."

"Please, Heero," Duo whimpered, letting his hand fall to his side. He glanced down at the white carpet, which still bore the marks of many afternoons of passion. He sniffed, his tears suddenly beginning to fall. There was no chance he would let Heero see him cry again, not willingly, but there was no doubt that the Japanese boy would hear the sadness in his voice. "You don't have to love me, or respect me, or anything. Just let me be with you. I'm willing to share you with anybody of your choice."

"Duo, I'm not going to use you."

"Do you have any idea what sort of hell I've been going through?" Duo collapsed to his knees and wrapped his arms around Heero's thighs. He gripped the tight muscles as if it were his last resort at life. "I miss you, Heero. And I can't believe that you feel nothing for me."

"That's not important, Duo," Heero said, staring down at his former lover, his cobalt eyes completely blank. "We're over, we've been over for a month."

"You said we should take a break!" Duo cried, clinging tighter to the Japanese boy's legs. "We're not over yet! We can't be over yet!"

"Duo, please. . ."

Duo quickly jumped to his feet, tightly embracing Heero. He pressed his lips firmly to the other boy's lips, taking him into a fervent kiss. A kiss that showed the Japanese boy everything he had abandoned one month ago, that showed him everything he could have back, if he wanted it.

At first, Heero had tried to break away from the kiss. He found it almost impossible, as Duo's strong arms kept a tight hold on him. And he would have protested further, had he not tasted the bitter salt of the violet-eyed American's tears mixed in with the desire and longing that he tasted along with the kiss.

Duo broke away slowly after a long moment, peering into Heero's gorgeous blue eyes. As long as they had been together, he had always been able to read the other boy's eyes, given there was anything there to be read. Not today, however; there was something in the ex-Wing pilot's eyes that looked foreign even to Duo. It scared him a little, that Heero was capable of more emotions than just lust, happiness, and sadness.

"Duo. . ." Heero whispered, his own voice coming out strained and harsh. He hung his head, his eyes shaded by short waves of dark brown hair. "I'm sorry. But I don't think it could work. After everything we've been through, I don't think we can go back."

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two young men. Duo immersed himself in that silence, his actions performed with a quiet grace that he had possessed since birth. He lifted Heero's chin with his index finger and stared straight into the other boy's eyes. He smiled softly, bringing his face closer to Heero's.

"Just say that you need me," he whispered.

The Japanese boy nodded. "I need you."

"Don't leave me."

"I can't promise that."

"Then fool me."

_Leave me, leave me_

_Just say that you need me_

_I can't care about anything but you_

It was 1:32 AM, according to the brilliant red numbers of the digital clock that sat idly on the nightstand. Duo knew he had arrived at Heero's apartment sometime after 5:45 in the evening. He sighed happily, snuggling backward into the comforting embrace of Heero Yuy. After a month of separation, it felt good to be home again.

Oddly enough, the bedroom was the only room in the apartment that had not gone through an entire redecoration. The pictures had been put away into storage, of course, but the sheets were the same sheets Duo remembered waking up in every morning for the last five years. Heero had not washed the sheets in the month of the American's absence. There was still a subtle hint of their last night of passion amidst the gentle cotton scent of the sheets.

Duo inhaled this, indulged himself in it. Every night he had longed for that smell, mixed with the redolence of his ex. Heero had always smelled of vanilla and jasmine; during the war, the bouquet was mixed with the smell of blood or sweat, which gave the aroma an interesting scent. Now, though, the Japanese boy smelled only of vanilla and jasmine.

The American boy turned himself around to look at the sleeping ex-pilot. Heero looked old while awake, as if he were constantly expected to be the adult, to perform some ungodly mission. While he slept, however, he became a five-year-old boy, his face clean of worry or doubt. Duo had never noticed this trait until after he and Heero began living together. Perhaps he had kept this characteristic all of his life, or perhaps it had shown up after the two of them started sleeping together. Duo could not remember a time he had not seen Heero's face calm and serene during sleep, so it was hard to determine.

1:35 AM. Duo simply continued to watch Heero sleep. He snuggled even closer to the boy, nuzzling the other's neck with his head, finding his usual resting spot. He placed his hands lightly against Heero's chest, as he had done for the five years. This was how it was supposed to be. He and Heero, curled together, tired after a long bout of lovemaking.

Heero muttered something incoherent, causing the American to perk up his ears. "What's that Hee-kun?" Duo whispered, smiling at his old nickname for the boy.

"I don't want to leave. . ." Heero mumbled his reply in his native Japanese. Duo could only pick out "leave" and "don't want" from the five years he had heard his lover speak the language.

"Why not, Hee-kun?" Duo asked in English, unconsciously inhaling the scent of Heero's skin.

"Because I love you. . ."

Duo chuckled, only recognizing "I love you." He hugged Heero closer to him, holding tightly to him. "Do you really mean that?" he said, unknowingly biting back tears.

"Yes."

"Liar," Duo whispered against the other boy's neck. "But I'll pretend to believe you." And there he drifted off to sleep, ignoring the small pool of tears that was forming on the pillow beneath his head.

_Lately I have desperately pondered_

_Spent my nights awake and I wonder_

_What I could have done in another way_

_To make you stay_

Duo had woken before Heero, for once in all their six years of knowing each other. While they had been a couple, Heero had always waited for Duo to wake up before getting up himself. If he had to wait too long, he would kiss Duo's forehead and whisper to him to wake up. And always, he would greet his significant other with a kiss on the tip of his nose and a warm smile.

The American decided he would repay Heero's kindness in the same fashion. When he awoke at the rising of the orange sun, he waited quietly for the Japanese boy to wake, watching as he slept his peaceful sleep.

Duo did not have to wait long. Heero's slumber ended only a few minutes after the former Deathscythe pilot's. As his eyes began to focus and he saw the braided American's brilliant violet eyes watching him with silent awe, he received a kiss on the tip of his nose and the trademark Duo Maxwell smile.

Heero smiled back, shut his eyes again, then opened them slowly. "This is an odd turn of events," he said softly, as if not wishing to disturb the peacefulness of the morning.

Duo nodded, "Usually you're the one awake before me."

Heero shook his head. "That's not what I was referring to."

"I know," Duo sighed, turning his violet eyes away from the Japanese boy. In an effort to change the subject, he said, "What were you dreaming about last night?"

Heero paused a moment in thought, then shrugged. "I don't remember. Why?"

Duo sighed again. "No reason. . ." He glanced up at the ceiling. "What did I do, Heero?"

Cobalt eyes widened. "How do you mean?"

"Why did you leave me? What did I do to make you leave? Why couldn't you have stayed, here, with me?"

"Duo, I've told you before—"

"I remember what you've told me," Duo's voice strained, and tears welled up again. "But is there anything I could have done to make you stay?"

"Duo please don't ask me this. . ."

"Just answer me, Heero." The American turned to face Heero, unshed tears glazing over his violet eyes. "I'll never ask you again. I just want to know why you left me."

Heero rose from the bed, unaware of his nudity. He violently ran his hands through his tousled hair, his usual sign of frustration. "You think this is easy for me, Duo!" he yelled, his voice a mix of anger and defeat. "To come back here every night to this place and constantly reminded of you? To see you every day at the Preventors, knowing I won't see your face when I go home? To know that I can't run crying to you when the world has turned to shit? To know I can't hide inside you when I'm scared? Does that sound easy to you!"

The former Deathscythe pilot stared at Heero, his body suddenly going numb. The Japanese boy's eyes had leaked bantam tears, and his thin, muscular form was shaking from emotion. He collapsed to the floor on his knees with his hands balled into fists.

For the first time in six years, Heero had shown pure, human emotion in front of another living soul.

_Reason will not reach a solution_

_I will end up lost in confusion_

Duo could do nothing but watch Heero cry. He wanted desperately to get up and comfort the other boy, to wrap his arms around him and whisper to him that everything would be all right. Yet his body refused to respond, no matter how hard his brain pushed to move him.

After a drawn moment of awkward silence, Heero's tears fell at a slower rate and his breathing returned to normal. He rose from his kneeled position and stood rigid, not meeting Duo's eyes. "I think you should go," he spoke in his typical monotone.

"Not until you answer my question," Duo demanded in a calm voice. "Why did you leave if you've been so miserable without me?"

"Because I can't feel anything except the pain!" the Japanese boy cried. "I've never been able to feel alive except when I'm in pain. Call me a masochist, but I've grown to like the anguish, and everything feels weird without it."

"That's why you left me?" Duo queried stupidly. He wanted to react to the statement, be it in anger or otherwise, and still his body would not respond. "Because you're a masochist?"

"I'm sorry, Duo," Heero said. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his back facing the violet-eyed boy. "I've never loved or cared about anything put together as much I love and care about you. But it's too hard." He turned his head and peered into Duo's patient eyes. "Any affection I show you feels fraudulent. You don't deserve that. You deserve better."

Finally, Duo's body agreed to respond to his brain's requests, and he scooted himself to lay beside Heero. He took one of the hands folded in the other boy's lap and entwined his fingers around it. With his other arm, he wrapped an arm across the ex-pilot's chest, pulling him close, gently. "I deserve you, Heero," he whispered into the finely shaped ear. "No one has ever treated me with such kindness and honesty as you. In my entire life. Including Father Maxwell, Sister Helen, and Solo."

"You don't mean that."

"Like hell I don't!" Duo squeezed Heero tighter. "I may be young, but I've seen a lot of bad shit in my life. Everyone I've ever really cared about has died unexpectedly, except for you. No matter how many times you tried to blow yourself apart, you never succeeded. Which is why I loved you in the first place. You were the first thing I knew wouldn't be stolen away from me." He kissed the Japanese boy's cheek. "You were the only thing I knew I could love."

The taste of salt and water fell on his lips, and Duo could tell that his ex-boyfriend was quietly crying. It made him smile, though he could not think of particularly why. Maybe it was the fact that Heero had chosen to let him see him in pain. Or perhaps it was because he knew that only he could reconcile this problem. He would take it upon himself, as a personal mission, to make Heero a whole person again, as he had perhaps only when he was very young.

As Heero used to say during the war: _ninmu ryoukai_.

_I don't care if you really care_

_As long as you don't go_

A thin strip of orangish light pierced Duo's eyelid. He blinked once, twice, and met the morning with mustered courage. His eyes fell upon the clock next to the bed. 7:13. He had just over half an hour to get ready before his ride would be coming to pick him up and bring him to the Preventers. He quietly cursed into the still morning air, then got up to hop into the shower.

On his way into the bathroom, he turned in the doorway to stare back at his bedmate. The nicely toned chest rose and fell in perfect time with a song only the body's brain could hear. Dark brown hair fell haphazardly into the beautiful creature's tightly shut eyes, but a smile still played on the thin, rosy lips.

Heero had always looked wonderful during sleep.

Duo sighed, wanting to fall back under the clean white sheets and snuggle up against that warm, inviting body. But to do that would force the both of them to terribly inconvenience their car pool and be late for work.

Instead, Duo sighed and headed for the shower. A spray of warm water smacked his face, soaked his body through and through. For the first time in five months, he began to hum while he shampooed his hair. It was a vaguely familiar tune, but he could not place exactly where he had last heard it.

It had been a hard three months, but finally Duo and Heero had made it. They were more than just lovers, more than just friends and co-workers. Duo felt comfortable in giving Heero the oft used, yet horribly abused title of "soul mate."

No matter what happened, Duo would always be a fool for love.

_So I cry, I pray, and I beg_

_I can't care about anything but you_

**End**


End file.
